


Pink

by orphan_account



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: ...Kinda? She’s stuck in a vent, Accidental Voyeurism, Body Horror, Confessions, Cunnilingus, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Double Penetration, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/F, First Time, Gay Sex, Gloryhole, Hurt/Comfort, Impostor Pink (Among Us), Impostor and Crewmate in Love, Lesbian Sex, Manipulation, Minor Character Death, Murder, Nipple Play, Porn With Plot, Praise Kink, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Stabbing, Stuck in a vent, Stuck in a wall, Tentacle Sex, Tongue Fucking, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, Xenophilia, but not in the way you'd expect, but the comfort happens with the hurt :(, girlfriends who murder together stay together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:27:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26693692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: There's a reason why only impostors can go through the vents. White, a dedicated member of the crew, finds that out the hard way.
Relationships: Pink/White (Among Us)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 487





	1. Decontamination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pink has a little snack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!  
> I'm so sorry in advance! I hope you enjoy!

White was never around for any of the communications their team had with passing ships or stations. They must’ve docked at least twenty or so times over the past two years, but White never saw any of it. She wasn’t allowed, really.

Pink was their liaison for any and all communications. Messages were to go through her and only her, lest the rest of the crew misspeak and cause strife among the two parties. Pink knew what she was doing – was more than qualified for it, actually – so her crew didn’t put in too much effort telling her no. In any case, they all had their own duties and specialties to attend to, when they weren’t trying to patch up the occasional wear-and-tear of their aging ship. It left little time to eavesdrop.

In hindsight, White should’ve been a bit more curious. Everyone else talked about their duties. Red raved about all the asteroids they’d destroyed as a defense captain, urging their crewmates to be grateful that they saved their lives; Cyan beamed about the new plants, tomato and lavender, that she’d recently been able to grow; and White herself mused about the path they were presently taking, past different planets and constellations, as their beloved navigator.

The only one she should’ve reasonably expected to be so quiet was Orange, their medic. She wasn’t exactly sure if HIPAA applied in space, but it made sense that he wanted to maintain patient confidentiality. That was really just between him and each individual crewmate. Pink’s work, on the other hand, concerned the fate of the entire cabin.

If White had only asked more questions, pressed a bit harder, perhaps she would have realized that Pink’s solitary communications were suspicious. Anything from outside the ship could compromise her, and no one else would know. Any party could be contacted, and no one else would know.

* * *

Finding her crewmates’ corpses strewn around the cabin, far too late, was when White realized there was foul play afoot. Somehow, someone, _something_ was picking them all off.

From that first report – of Purple, sweet Purple – no one was allowed to go anywhere alone. Captain Brown’s orders. A buddy system was implemented soon enough, which would have been rather damning evidence of any malevolence if they could actually keep it together. Someone was deliberately, remotely sabotaging their ship, and easily tearing the teams apart. Yellow and Lime were split by a few flipped switches in their lighting box, and Lime’s corpse was discovered not a second after light re-established in the room. The reactor, at one point, had been set into a premature meltdown, and Black and Green were both found bloodied and ravaged en route.

There really was no safe option. Damned if you go alone, damned if you don’t.

But Pink and White had gotten rather close during their time on the ship, and even in the training facility prior to their launch. They knew each other – really _knew_ each other – and White nearly tripped over her words just working up the nerve to ask Pink to stay with her. Pink knew how to handle tough situations; she was a diplomat, for goodness sake. She had a way with words, with calming White down when nerves clawed inside her chest, with wrapping her in a gentle cocoon of honeyed praises and promises.

To say that White felt strongly for Pink was an understatement, but she was certain that Pink must have known. Why else would she have agreed to accompany her?

It was a stilted, stuttering proposal met with a fond smile and an affirmative, that led them through the halls of the ship and towards the reactor room. White was assigned to download data from the mainframe of the reactor, nestled deep within the heart of the ship and beyond a stretch of decontamination.

White had done this so many times without fail. It was easy, safe, and simple: go through decontamination, upload the files to her tablet, and leave through decontamination. No doors would lock permanently, and nothing compromising – save a hulking reactor, of course – could do them any damage beyond those barricades. She pressed the button to open the decontamination hallway without a second thought and strolled in.

Behind her, footsteps. The familiar _whoosh_ of their entrance sealing shut. A series of grinding and clicking, like a lock. Then, silence.

She’d never heard that before – not the locking, not the silence. By now, they’d be doused in a fine concoction of disinfectant and preparing to exit the hallway. But, instead, there was only silence.

“…Pink?” she murmured, turning to face her companion. “Did… did the doors just lock?”

White wished she could’ve seen past Pink's murky visor. There was a hint of a smirk, chilling to the bone, when Pink spoke, and White would’ve traded anything to see her suspicions proved null.

“Did they? I didn’t realize.”

Pink stepped forward, and White bit back the urge to put distance between them. She knew Pink, she knew she was safe. They were safe. This was safe. It just… it was odd, wasn’t it? Pink was level-headed in every situation – she had to be, or else she could seriously endanger her crew – but White highly doubted she’d ever been locked in a room with a saboteur and murderer on the loose. But, with another step, and another, White finally let herself retreat in unison; slowly, facing Pink.

“Are you okay? You seem scared, White. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe,” mused Pink, cautiously extending an upturned hand. “Trust me. It’ll be okay; we’ll figure a way out of this.”

Frozen in place, White eyed the gesture.

_Pink wouldn’t hurt her. She trusted Pink. She knew her. It would be okay. They would figure a way out._

She reached out her own hand, trembling, and gently placed it upon Pink’s. _It would be okay; it was okay_ – either Pink was saying, or her conscience was pleading. It was all she could do to try to regain her composure, after all. And, as Pink slotted their fingers together and ran her padded thumb across the back of White’s hand placatingly, White could conclude that it was working.

_Yes, of course. This was Pink. Pink was safe. Pink would never hurt her._

In that moment of calm, of quiet, Pink’s stomach suddenly growled. White almost burst out laughing – how tense this all was, and what ridiculous timing.

“We should… _hah_! We should figure a way out soon so you can get something to eat, huh?” White squeezed out through a stifled giggle.

“Oh, no. No. That’s not necessary.”

“Come on, there’s no way we can have our favorite liaison starve to death! I just heard you! You’ll feel _so_ much better after a sandwich.”

“No, not that.”

White snorted, nearly tugging away in jocund recoil. But Pink’s hand held tight against hers and the press of her thumb came down a tad stronger. With another rumble of the liaison’s stomach, White countered, “Okay – dessert, then. I like your style! There’s still some of that devil's food cake I baked in the fridge, I think, so we should hurry before Yellow gets to – “

“White, you misunderstand.”

She blinked slowly behind her visor. “I don’t…?”

“All I need is right here, White.”

In what must’ve been hysteria or delusion, White could’ve sworn she saw the seams of Pink’s suit split, tugging and twisting into a… a _mouth_ , where there’d otherwise be intestines and kidneys. Rows of jagged teeth glinted back at her, glistening with what assumed was a slurry of saliva and blood. A long, fat tongue swiped across the splintering rows before unfurling across the floor. As it collided with the polished metal, spraying flecks of saliva across the front of her suit, White finally found herself able to move.

She jerked her arm harshly backwards and staggered over herself, bolting to the end of the room. White was effectively trapped, but she had to put as much space between Pink and her as possible to try to figure out what the _fuck_ to do. In her haste, she stumbled to the end of the hallway and pressed her back solidly against the hulking door.

There really was only one way out now. Assuming that the doors wouldn’t open – because why would they open, when she needed them to? – she’d have to try moving through the ventilation system. She’d spotted the grating at the very corner of the room, to her left, and mulled the thought over with tense consideration. The very reason why her crewmates didn’t go through the vents in times of emergency was because they simply couldn’t fit: with the entirety of their protective gear, they were too bulky to properly maneuver through the confined pathways. Given the fact that Pink could apparently _shapeshift_ , it finally made sense how the impostor had been able to surpass their own shortcoming.

But, if the problem was just that her equipment was too much, she could shed that. She could work with that! It wasn’t ideal, of course – if oxygen levels dipped in their ship or she encountered any potent hazard, she’d be out of luck. The suit was just meant to be a safety precaution while they worked, though. She wasn’t going outside, just through the vents, and she could call an emergency meeting and don a new suit as soon as she was far from Pink’s clutches.

Right. Okay. She could do this.

White made quick work of disconnecting and shucking off her oxygen tank, then twisting off her helmet. She threw it haphazardly at Pink’s approaching form, too panicked to notice if it even hit, then scrambled over to the grating set into the wall. She grasped firmly and jerked it backwards to loosen the cover from the vent. With one last panicked glance over her shoulder, she realized Pink was not even three yards out, and immediately dove into the vent before her.

With her hands outstretched before her, White managed to pull herself two or three feet through the tight cage of metal. She frantically dragged at the level plates inside and kicked at the ground below her, outside of the vent, determined to make it through. White pushed and pulled fervently, shakily, and let out a choked wail as she realized that she wasn’t going anywhere. She was stuck with the swell of her hips flush against the wall.

Fuck. She was _stuck_.

_Great_ timing, too, because Pink had finally caught up with her.

“You make this almost too easy, White,” she mused from above, just loud enough for White to hear. She crouched down and swiped a hand across the crewmate’s calf in soft circles. It was almost soothing; it _was_ soothing, that was what was so terrifying about it. White felt like Pavlov’s dog beneath Pink’s ministrations, so attuned to the warmth and comfort that her liaison provided that even now, the action brought her a sickeningly-sweet sense of security. White was terrified, betrayed, but the horror bubbling inside her chest was easily pacified as a light shiver.

“Pink, please…”

Pink hummed lightly from behind, still working into the tense muscles and knots of her crewmate’s leg. She let her hand drift higher, sliding up to White’s plush thighs and kneading the soft flesh below. White shuddered at the touch.

Her fingers danced along the edge of the pants' waistband. “You trust me, don’t you?” Pink hooked them underneath and eased the pants and briefs both down over the swell of her ass. The second the cool air hit her skin, White kicked out wildly behind her. “None of that, White. You know I’d never want to hurt you.” And then the fabric was wrenched down to her ankles and over her boots.

A sob caught in White’s throat. _This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening._

She loved Pink, she did. They’d never really done anything, never made it official – hell, White didn’t even know if Pink actually _liked her back_. Over three years they’d known each other and White still had no clue, just a hope that maybe one day, someday, they’d have a chance together. As a familiar hand slid back between her legs, skimming her folds and sliding easily through the slick, White broke at the thought that maybe this was Pink’s confession.

Pink rubbed more intently now. “I'd never want to hurt you, White. Rather the opposite. You’re the only one here who deserves pleasure. Love. The only one who deserves to _live_.” She paused over White’s clit, swirling and flicking until she was rewarded with an echo of a heavy gasp. “There we go. Isn’t that nice?” she soothed, speeding up beyond what White could’ve considered humanly possible. It was so fast, so much, and despite how she writhed within the vent and urged her legs shut, the impostor wouldn’t relent.

White panted loudly, desperately trying to control her traitorous body. She loved Pink, even as hurt as she was, but this wasn’t right. She couldn’t fight back the burning heat pooling below her stomach. Each movement set another round of nerves alight, toying the boundary of too much and just right, even though – _dammit_ , even though she shouldn’t feel this, she shouldn’t _like_ this.

She tried so hard to twist out of Pink’s grasp or force her hand away, but the soft touch followed her wherever she went. It was so much, _so_ much, and then two fingers slipped in without warning, already searching and stretching within her.

“Pi..nk… Hah…” she whined at the intrusion. White tried pulling her hips forward and away from the coaxing press, even though she knew it was useless. She knew she was stuck, but she couldn’t stop trying to get away, couldn’t stop herself from feeling so overcome.

The fingers finally curled inside her, brushing just the right spot, and White shuddered violently as her climax broke. All of the heat was blinding light, pure _ecstasy_ , and the satisfaction coursed through her veins as she rode out the high. Her toes curled in her boots, skittering across the ground for some purchase. Pink worked her through it gently, pumping and twisting within her and stroking her clit raw.

When the stimulation proved too much, Pink withdrew and ran her sticky fingers along the tongue lolling out of her gaping chest, savoring the heavenly taste with little restraint.

“Good girl. You’re so good for me, my love. So delicious.”

_My love_. White thought that it must be her climax muddling her mind, making her hear things. It didn't sound real, but it was that same kind, heartfelt tone that Pink reserved just for her; the same tone that even her most rewarding dreams couldn't replicate.

“You were right, though, earlier," Pink continued. "I am a bit hungry. I hope you won’t mind if I help myself.”

That didn't register very well, either. Visions of her fellow crewmates sliced in half and strewn about danced hazily before her eyes. She’d been the first to find Purple’s body. She knew what the impostor behind her was capable of. And, now, it seemed like she would find out firsthand.

The tip of something thick and slimy found her entrance again. In her state, White couldn’t even turn to see what it was; for all she knew, it could have been a— well, perhaps a proboscis to drain her insides of meat and tissue, or… or, well, she didn’t really know what else. Pink really _was_ going to eat her, suck her dry. White had little energy to breathe let alone struggle, but the thought struck her with renewed fear.

“What… are you doing…?” she choked out. “Please, please don’t…kill me… I can’t—I don’t…”

“Shh, White.” Once more the gentle weight of Pink’s hand met her thigh – not clutching, not scratching, not bruising, just enough to ground her through the nerves. “I told you I’d never dream of hurting you. I love you, silly.” White wept loudly at the confession, but Pink simply shushed her and pushed, “Do you not love me, too?”

White curled her fingers tight into her palms, nails threatening to puncture the fabric. She shook and sobbed and couldn’t focus on anything but Pink, there, behind her, touching her, rubbing her, betraying her, _confessing_ to her, _loving her_ —

“I d…o, hah, _I do_ , I do, but—”

“But what? I just need a little snack, won’t you indulge me? I’m so hungry, White, so hungry.”

It was that tongue, then, wasn’t it? From the abyss in her beloved’s chest? In the dark, beyond Pink’s view, White scrunched her eyes shut tight and let her head flop against the floor.

“I can’t— you can’t, please...” The thing sliding between her folds moved a bit more insistently, searching. “Please, don’t. Pink, not like this. _Please_ don’t do it like this.” Her cries fell upon deaf ears, she knew, but it was all she could hope for. Pink must’ve been listening, always hyperaware and -alert, but she concerned herself only with shushing White and sliding forward again and again.

The tip of Pink’s tongue finally caught on her rim, and, with a deep groan, she slid forward until White’s body had no more give. White’s breath was punched out of her and the nauseating, excruciating fullness in her stomach seemed to overcome any room for air. She gasped wildly in a vain desire to inhale, but it was so much, too much, and she was choking, burning, dying—

There it was again. Pink stilled within her – still sheathed a full thirteen inches, a fraction of the tongue’s length – and drew her attention through the sharp haze of agony to the delicate pattern drawn on her thigh. She was there. Pink was there. Pink was – hurting her, helping her, betraying her, killing her…

No, none of it was right, _none_ of it was right.

She gurgled a pathetic excuse for a laugh, tears stinging her eyes and dripping into the open gape of her mouth.

Pink must’ve taken that as a sign that White was prepared for her to move. The tongue slid back slightly before ramming her again, shocking her core and threatening to puncture her womb. It burned and stung and ached so strongly, and as Pink recoiled nearly to the tip, a rush of scalding, sticky liquid gushed down the crewmate's thighs. White tried not to think about what that was; the more that Pink skewered her, the deeper, harder, and faster she went, the harder it was to put the truth out of her mind.

“S…top… Pin..k…” she sobbed hoarsely. Pink, ever the loving traitor, simply hummed and pressed even _deeper_ , until a shriek was drug from her lover. “I can’t… You’ll… you’ll, hah, hnn—you’ll k..hh..ill me.”

Maybe Pink didn’t actually care. Maybe this was it.

Pink’s thrusts sped up soon enough, slamming into White’s cunt violently. She was pressing farther and farther forward with each stroke, and any pleasure White had felt before – any warmth or light – was crushed by blind torment. She couldn’t feel Pink’s hand anymore, couldn’t even feel the cool draw of the vent around her, just pain, so much pain.

In one last gesture, Pink pushed past the tight, enticing barrier she’d teased all along and buried herself far within her womb. Pink's tongue coiled within, savoring the raw saccharine juices she’d torn so many others apart for. But not White, never White. White, her beloved White, would be spared–

  
White, who finally teetered over the brink of consciousness as the pain of being split open registered.

* * *

When she came to, she was unmistakably empty and, thankfully, redressed. There was a harsh cramping plaguing her core and a light hand upon her calf.

“...ink…?” she pressed, internally wincing at how utterly, completely shredded her voice sounded. If Pink noticed, she didn’t let it show.

“Good, you’re up. I didn’t want you to wake up alone. That’d be awful, wouldn’t it, White? Especially after our first time.” White felt lightheaded at how… _calm_ she sounded, how pleased she was with herself. Or, perhaps, she felt lightheaded at the resounding pain inside her. “I have to tie up a few loose ends, and then we’ll be free. I’ll only be a few minutes, I promise.”

There was the distinct shuffling of fabric and boots behind her, and White could’ve only assumed that Pink had gotten to her feet.

“Wai…wai...t, let me…” She trembled with the exertion of stringing together a sentence, when all she could think of was how everything _hurt_. “Let m..e… out…”

“No, I can’t do that. Even as you are right now, I can’t have you trying to save them, now can I?”

The hallway was silent aside from the low hum of the ventilation and the shuddering, stilted wheezes of the crewmate. White tried to pull the strength together to plead to Pink to spare them, just send them out in escape pods, just _let them live_ , she became distinctly aware of the patter of footsteps fading away.

In the distance, a faint series of grinding and clicking.

A _whoosh_ as the doors slid open.

Silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! Sorry if you made it through -- hopefully you enjoyed, though!
> 
> If you liked (or hated, that's okay!) this, please consider leaving a kudos/comment! It'd make my day!
> 
> That being said, please go have some water, get some rest, and/or play a fun round of Among Us to relax. (=


	2. Electrical

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And then there were three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is a mash-up of the MIRA HQ and Skeld maps. Yes, I’m going to call it all the Skeld. ;) <3  
> (Chapter 1: think the decon tunnel in MIRA, before reactor.  
> Chapter 2: think elec + comms of Skeld.)
> 
> Just enjoy the lesbian horror porn and don’t think too much about it.
> 
> (Also! If you're a bit nervous about the new tags/warning, a little summary is at the end.)

To be honest, she wasn’t sure how much time had passed since Pink left.

The first few minutes, she tried wedging herself out of the cold grip of the vents – unsuccessfully, of course.

Then she tried screaming for a solid minute. Just screaming. These vents were woven all throughout the cabin, right? She’d seen the grating in nearly every room, around every bend of hallway… so, theoretically, if she were to scream very, _very_ loud, maybe someone would hear and follow it to the source. So, _theoretically_ , she could get someone to _get her out of here_ and to safety. Theoretically.

Neither of those worked, of course. No wiggling or whining was getting her out of this.

White might have passed out, after that. With nothing to judge the time by, everything felt like a blur. Her mind was swimming in an array of sheer nothing and absolutely everything – so quiet, so alone, so tired, so scared, so… everything. She had no clue what was happening to her friends right now, or who was alive, or if there even _was_ anyone still alive. None of it felt real.

* * *

Her lonesome was eventually sorted. The door slid open behind her and the unmistakable squeak of footfalls followed, punctuated by something… sticky, _tacky_ , with each step.

“Let’s get you out of there, okay?” came a reassuring lilt, distinctively Pink. There were hands on the thick of her thighs now, something wet and heavy seeping through the cloth, and a creaking to her left that must’ve been Pink bracing her foot against the wall. “Ready?”

White huffed loudly. _No, why would I be ready to leave this stupid vent?_

With a sharp tug on her legs, she finally felt herself jolt free of the metal trap and collapse on her side onto the floor below. Her nose cracked against the tile and a burning pain blossomed behind her eyes. She gurgled out a scream, clutching at her nose, and curled tightly in on herself.

“White, White, here—shh, let me see.” Pink knelt down beside her and gently, firmly guided the pair of bloodstained gloves away from White’s face. With the shock and sting of it all, she was pliant in Pink’s hold, and hardly even recognized Pink’s tongue had unfurled and started cleaning away the blood until the movement jostled her abused nose.

White did little more than instinctively scrunch her nose – and hiss sharply at the pain shooting into her forehead – and try to angle her face closer to the ground, away from the gentle licks. “Ewwww – Pink, what the hell—?!” But Pink followed, carefully assuring that each drop of crimson had been cleared away. She finally sat up, satisfied, and stroked alongside White’s side.

It took a minute or two to gain some clarity, but White finally managed to clamber to her feet under Pink’s careful supervision. She tried to slap lightly at Pink’s shoulder and found herself falling through on the movement, suddenly caught in those strong arms before she could hit the ground again.

“Not so fast, dear. How’s your head?”

White grimaced, biting back a fresh wave of agony. “It feels better than… everything else, I guess.” It was meant to come out snarky, irate, but she had little effort to put more than a half-hearted huff into her words. Pink didn’t seem to mind what little attitude she’d managed to wrangle up. She gently pushed a stray strand of lavender hair behind White’s ear.

“We’ll get you fixed up in no time. I have a little surprise for you, and then we can go check out the Med Bay. How does that sound?”

As much as White wanted to argue that _no, Pink, anything other than a healthy dose of temazepam sounds like a terrible idea right now,_ there was still a space in her tummy that fluttered when she heard that Pink had something for her. Chocolates, she hoped, or maybe a nice, steaming hot bath. It had to be some sort of apology gift, she mused, and nodded dumbly against Pink’s chest.

“There’s my girl. So good. Come on now – hold on, I won’t let you fall.” She pressed a kiss to the top of White’s head. “I’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

White felt herself flush a deep crimson at the oath and afforded herself a glance up at Pink; she was staring back, eyes crinkled in delight and a pure, beaming smile drawn across her cheeks. It was enough to get White to completely short-circuit, and she felt incredibly thankful that Pink was there to keep her upright while she swooned. Her legs would’ve turned to jelly and she’d have simply collapsed, on her own.

Much to the crewmate’s surprise, Pink led her to Electrical, through a dim maze of dangling, destroyed wires and clunky old machinery. The lights flickered slightly overhead. It’d never been particularly bright in Electrical, but it was usually manageable to spot your task and get it done. Now, nearly hidden by the darkness, White could just spot a figure shifting ever-so-slightly. She shot forward, stumbling out of Pink’s hold as the grip loosened, and toward the lonesome crewmate.

“Orange...”

Beneath the splotches of crimson red, it was _Orange_.

White sunk to her knees before him and shakily reached out her hands. She was supposed to put pressure somewhere, right? Or… do CPR? Chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth? Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck! She didn’t know. She didn’t know how to do this!

The _one_ solace she could find was in Orange’s continued breathing, almost hidden by the gentle whirrs of the nearby electronics, and the strained rise and fall of his chest. He was alive, at least. She could work with that. They could fix this.

“How do I help him?” she bit out, eyes still trained on her friend before her and hands still hovering in hesitation.

There was no reply for a moment, just a few steps as Pink approached.

“Well, that’s a rather difficult question,” she decided on. “You can obviously see that Orange is bleeding out, right? Well, I was aiming for the liver – whether or not I hit it, I can’t really tell. The size of these suits _really_ distorts my shots.” Pink scoffed and chuckled lightly to herself. With a squeak of her shoes on the tile, she crouched behind White. “Oh, but that doesn’t matter, it’s close enough.

“The point is: I successfully missed anything vital, so Orange isn’t dead yet. But he _is_ going to bleed out – within the next, oh… three hours, I’d say. Lucky or unlucky for him, he’s been bleeding pretty slowly and tried to keep some pressure on it. Wouldn’t expect anything less from our amazing Medic!” Pink reached out a hand, as if to proudly pat him on the arm, but White swatted her hand away. She didn’t try again, but her tone immediately abandoned some of its playfulness. “Eventually, that won’t be enough. He’ll need some special attention in the Med Bay, and even if he had the strength to perform a procedure on himself – I won’t let that happen.

“You asked before – how do you help him? I’ll allow you two choices. First, you can let him bleed out and suffer for another three hours or so–”

White clicked her tongue, dismissing the idea. “Absolutely not.”

“Second, you can finish Orange off yourself.”

“ _Absolutely not_!”

White whipped her head over her shoulder without hesitation, and Pink caught it between her hands. The strain of the hold prompted her to turn almost-fully towards Pink. She was held so gently, thumbs running over her cheeks, that the words she heard felt anything but real.

“You have a kind heart, White,” Pink soothed. “This is my surprise for you, my present for you: you don’t have to let him suffer. You can _help_ him.” The room fell silent for a moment as White simply gaped up at her. “It’s all your choice. I’m sure you’ll make the right one.”

“Why…?”

Pink tugged lightly on White’s cheek, squeezing at the soft skin there, and it made her eyes water.

“So we can move on together, dear. On to the next ship, on to the next mission, _together_. We can’t have any witnesses, of course. Imagine if HQ found out… We’d both be ejected, best case scenario.”

She shook her head weakly between Pink’s hold. “But, why do _I_ … Why do _I_ have to…?” As much as she tried to force the sentence out, the words burned in her throat like bile.

“We’re in this together now. I came to the Skeld with a mission to extinguish its crew. When I leave, I’ll take up the same mission elsewhere. But I’ll be leaving with you – we’ll be together, just the two of us against everyone else. This next mission won’t just be me – it’ll be us. I need to know that we’re in this together, my love.”

“I’m—I’m with you, I am. I’m in this with you. I just… I can’t hurt someone. You said you—love me, right? You wouldn’t make me do this… I…”

Pink shushed her with a kiss and nudged her back to face Orange’s dying form. She slid a knife from the holster on her thigh into White’s hands, closing her shaking fingers around the hilt.

“Pink, I – I can’t…”

And then Pink pressed flush against her, stomach to White’s back and chin upon a cream-clad shoulder, and those experienced hands gently clasped over hers. They held the knife together, and the shaking became an insignificant shiver under Pink’s control.

“You can, _you can_. I’ll help you, okay? I’ll help you do the merciful thing. This is what you want, right? For him not to suffer anymore?”

As White tried to push back, away from the knife, she just slotted herself closer to Pink. She gulped at the contact, at the heavy feeling in her hands, at the decision that _she_ had to make.

He was… going to die anyway. Even if Pink let her bring him to the Med Bay, neither of them had enough surgical know-how to undo what Pink had done, and Orange was too far into unconsciousness to do anything useful. Hell, even if they tried to flag down another ship, there was no way there’d be enough time for it to get a signal, get to their position, and operate on him. There really was nothing that any of them could do to stop this. So there really wasn’t any point in making him hurt any more.

This was right, right? She’d be doing the right thing. She’d be helping Orange. Yes, helping.

With a deep breath, she finally nodded jerkily.

Pink kissed the top of her head and squeezed around White’s hands twice. “Good girl. Then we’ll go on three, okay?”

White nodded again, words failing. This had to be okay. This had to happen.

“One, two—”

“ _Wait_ —” White gasped.

And Pink mustered up a force she’d never shown before, pulling them both forward against White’s restraint and plunging the knife into the thick of Orange’s throat.

“Pink, oh my god, oh my god, _oh my god_ —” came her horrified chant. She tried to pull back, to slip out from under Pink’s grip, but she held them both firm on the knife’s handle. It was still sunken deep into the flesh, and every time White struggled the blade twisted and jostled within the wound. “Let go, let me _go_ , Pink, oh my god…” she sputtered, but it was barely audible under the sickly gurgling of Orange choking on his own blood. “Pink, stop, STOP—”

Finally Pink let them move, sharply twisting the blade inside before unsheathing it from the body. Blood gushed over the fabric and floor in a flood – _must’ve hit the carotid, just their luck_ – and with one final, aborted wheeze, Orange went silent and still.

White didn’t remember it, didn’t know when she started, but she was gripping the knife for dear life. The shock pulsed through her veins and tensed every muscle in her body, froze her completely in place. When Pink tried to pry the knife from her hands, White let her do it without a struggle.

Pink curled herself gently around White’s shaking form in a calm, collected reassurance. In satisfaction. It pulled a sob from White, and when one tear slid out, she couldn’t stop the rest from falling. She cried herself an ugly mess and Pink just held her, arms crisscrossed around her heaving chest.

Eventually, there was nothing left in her. She was already sapped of her energy before their trip to Electrical, and now she was surprised to even be conscious. Everything was a haze, some sick departure from reality, and she was simply slouched over in Pink’s arms, staring blankly at Orange’s corpse.

She did that. She really did that. She murdered Orange.

The doors opened behind them, but it didn’t register in her mind until Pink lifted her into her arms bridal-style. She felt completely drained, but Pink was right as rain and smiling gently down upon her.

“My sweet, strong White. You did so well. I’m so proud of you.” She craned her neck to kiss that button nose, and White stared up at her through tired, half-lidded eyes. “The first is always the hardest, but you did it. Oh, my dear… We’ll get you cleaned up and then off to bed. I’ll take care of you.”

And Pink kept her promise. She took her to the captain’s private bathroom and ran her a steaming hot bath with some Epsom salt she’d found stashed away under the sink, then gently toweled her off. She was brought back to Pink’s bedroom and dressed in her softest sleeping shirt; the piece was far too big on her short form, and White briefly thought that she’d feel flustered if she had anything left to feel. She let Pink coo over how lovely she looked in her own wardrobe, then tuck her into bed and slip in alongside her.

Pink cuddled up to her, pressed firmly against White’s back, like earlier. Like when they – _she_ – killed Orange. She felt a kiss pressed to the back of her neck, but she couldn’t even shudder.

“Goodnight, my love.”

She didn’t have the energy to speak. Pink didn’t seem to mind.

* * *

The next few days were… awkward, White would say. They passed through a dead zone, contact completely cut off from MIRA HQ, the nearest outpost on Polus, and any possible ships that might have been floating by. They tested the comms again and again, but only a heavy static filtered through. It wasn’t a surprise – the crew had this marked on their maps as a danger area and tried to stick to a safety plan to avoid exactly what had happened here – but it was still a bit less than ideal for the two survivors.

In these days, White healed. Her bruises faded significantly, and she slowly, slowly warmed back up to Pink; it wasn’t like she had a choice not to. Pink was always there, always watching, always keeping her safe. The once-hostile presence soon became something she couldn’t wish to part with. She didn’t know how to feel, didn’t know how she _should_ feel. Pink brought her food, helped her with her tasks, and held her lightly as they drifted off to sleep each night, manicured claws drifting up and down White’s thigh. But the very same person who was treating her so well, who had stolen her heart from the moment they first met at the MIRA facility, was the one who had murdered all of her friends. All of those innocent people, and probably more before this mission. Definitely more before this mission. She was horrified, frankly, but she couldn’t muffle the rising warmth she felt at the mere thought of her Impostor.

One morning they woke up at the edge of the dead zone. White and Pink both received the navigation alert on their tablets, and found themselves completely overjoyed – White, for some fresh faces and new interaction, and Pink, for a new menu of _crewmate_ _à la carte_. They changed and bounded down to the kitchen, where Pink rehydrated some blueberry oatmeal for White, before trekking down to Comms.

They’d both decided that they would set aside tasks for the day, unless something critical came up – an O2 malfunction or a reactor meltdown, maybe, but Pink swore that she’d play no part in that (“ _Why would I want to hurt_ you _of all people, my dear?_ ”). White could nibble on her breakfast while Pink set to fiddling with the buttons at the control panel, they’d decided.

And here they were, posted inside the Comms room, presently unsuccessful. White leaned on the control panel beside Pink, sucking on her spoon and watching the Impostor lazily. Nothing but static, so far.

“No worries, this will probably take some time. Getting in and out of this area is always… uncertain.” Pink fiddled with the controls some more, trying to home in on the proper frequency to no avail.

White walked a few laps around the Comms room and finally settled down at the base of the wall near the entrance. She finished off the last few bites of her oatmeal and set the bowl aside. With nothing else to do, the stars stole her attention, glimmering and gleaming past Pink’s figure and fading into the stretch of space. The sparkles waded slowly past the ship, and she could’ve sworn the serenity of it all lulled her right into the trance of sleep.

She swore this, of course, because she next remembered waking up on her side, sprawled across the ground with Pink’s jacket draped over her. White took a moment to slide her gaze upwards at the control panel, flushing a bright red at the toned muscles flush against the back of Pink’s tank top, before averting her eyes and clearing her throat.

Pink threw a pleasant grin over her shoulder. “Ah, glad to see you’re awake. How did you sleep?”

“Fi—” her voice cracked, and she coughed again, a bit harder. “ _Fine_. Th..thanks.”

The impostor chuckled lightly and continued to fiddle with the controls. As she turned one of the dials, the static momentarily seemed to thin out into something more human. Still nothing concrete, but definitely promising.

“You know, I have something we can do to pass the time. I’m certain that I’m not the only one bored here.”

In theory, White should have been a bit more hesitant. Considering everything that had happened with Pink, considering her idea of a _surprise_ , she logically knew that caution was key. But she really _was_ bored, and their idle state was eating away at her mind.

“Okay,” she agreed with a smile to mirror Pink’s own. “Okay! Yes! What’re you thinking?”

“Come here,” she commanded, not even dragging her gaze away from the array of buttons and switches before her.

White dropped the jacket to the floor and pushed herself to her feet. She strolled over casually, and in a flash Pink had swiveled around on the balls of her feet, gripped White securely by the shoulders, and spun them around to press White’s back against the control panel. Tummy to tummy, hips to hips, Pink ground forward gently.

“P—ink?!” White squeaked out, face scalding hot.

“Don’t be scared. I said I wouldn’t hurt you, didn’t I? I think you’ll enjoy this. I’m a little hungry and we’re both a bit bored, so how about we find a compromise? Wouldn’t you like to pass some time together…?” Pink slid a finger under White’s chin and tilted it upwards, forcing her to level her gaze with the Impostor.

“ _No_! I mean—yes, I mean… The – the comms, what if they…”

“What if they what?” Pink hummed.

“What if they hear?! That’s—that’s unprofessional! And _embarrassing_! What are they gonna think?!”

Pink licked a long stripe up White’s cheek, relishing in the shudder it stole from her, and settled by her ear to whisper, “Lucky crewmate?”

White huffed and pushed gently against Pink’s chest, teasing.

“Come on, White. I’ll make it worth your while.” She kissed the shell of White’s ear and slipped a hand past her waistband and into her pants, gently cupping her sex. White gulped lowly and threw her head back.

“So good, that’s my White. So ready to be worshipped, as she should.”

Pink kissed down her cheek, her chin, her neck, then grasped the jacket’s zipper between her teeth and tugged it down slowly, lightly. White’s soft breasts spilled out of the fabric as it parted, and the cool air sent a shock straight to her nipples.

“Every part of you is so beautiful. My White. My darling White.”

She latched on to one nipple and gently swirled her tongue around it, laving the bud with such care and precision. She pulled off for a second to puff a breath of hot air across it, sending a shiver straight through to White’s toes, and then that sinful mouth was back at full force. A hand snuck to the other breast, gently kneading the tender flesh and flicking over her pert nub. White twisted and whined at the attention, but Pink followed the movement fluidly.

“Suh—haa _ahh_ …slow down, slow d-down…”

Pink sucked a little harder, then pulled off with a pop and pressed an apologetic little kiss to her abused nipple. Instead, she diverted her attention to kissing a path down the gentle rolls of White’s tummy and finally to her pelvis. Pink eased the thick pants down to White’s ankles as she sucked a hickey into the meat of one thigh, and White bit her lip to stifle her building moans.

She stood up suddenly, then bent forward to capture White’s arms and press them high above her head. White didn’t even notice the gaping maw in Pink’s stomach splitting open until she felt the slick slide of that familiar alien tongue against her thigh, curling around it and sliding up to her ribs.

“Let’s get right to it, shall we?”

White almost wanted to question what she meant, but then she felt something hot and hard press against her slit and the words died straight on her tongue. In one rough push, it buried itself a few inches deep and jutted against the skin of her stomach in a clear bulge. Somewhere in her mind she knew it felt good to be so full, _so full of Pink_ , but feeling so much at once _ached_ in her core. She gasped sharply at the intrusion, all too taken-aback at the searing pressure inside.

“Pink..wait… _Wait_ , please.”

And this time, she did. She massaged featherlight circles along both of White’s wrists and rested her head between her soft tits, purring up at White’s flushed face. As the minute passed, she watched the tension fade and melt into undeniable pleasure, until White finally nodded.

Pink pushed in just a little bit more, testing her boundaries and easing a weak whine from White, before she pulled out slowly and slid in with just as much caution. White flexed her hands, trying to reach for Pink’s own; when she obliged, White immediately threaded her fingers between Pink’s and squeezed tightly.

Pink rolled her hips with each thrust as White made herself more and more vocal. Every slide sent a spark through the whole patchwork of nerves in her body, and the perfect pressure she felt building and throbbing in her guts was enough to make her shake. Pink pushed more, pushed deeper, and harder, and _just enough_ for White, just enough to get that familiar heat pooling in her stomach, almost _bursting_.

It was unfortunate for White, then, that the static fog finally lifted, and a voice cut through their ministrations.

White tried to move her hands to mess with the signal or put them on mute, harshly whispering to Pink to stop, but Pink held her down firmly and thrust in harder, faster.

With little give in her voice, she calmly addressed the person on the other side, “We’re receiving you. This is Crewmate Pink of the Skeld ship, under the jurisdiction of MIRA HQ, requesting immediate retrieval. Over.” Pink was toned, clearly used to breath control in her workouts, and this didn’t test her limits of composure much at all.

White, on the other hand, was out of breath and trying incredible hard to stifle her whines at the sudden barrage of thrusts. Each stroke felt like it pierced her to her very core and shoved the air straight from her lungs, but the blinding pleasure that they shot through her was unparalleled. She’d never felt so _good_ – really, truly never – but that ecstasy was something she couldn’t muffle for their soon-to-be saviors.

She shook her head frantically, hand clasped over her mouth and eyes wide, but Pink paid her no mind. She summoned all the strength in her sculpted form and snapped forward twice more, and White found herself coming right then and there, harder and louder than she ever had in her entire life.

Aside from White’s harsh breathing as she regained her hold on reality, both sides of the comms went quiet.

It took a few seconds for her mind to clear and the situation to process, and then White found herself mortified under Pink’s satisfied smirk.

“…Right,” the voice resumed, a bit frazzled. “We’ve – we’ve pinpointed your coordinates. We’ll, uh, be there with the next 48 hours. Right. Over.” And then the line cut out once more, back into the familiar shroud of static.

White was still mortified. Positively mortified. She squeezed her eyes shut and slapped her hands over them. With all the pent-up embarrassment in her little body, she groaned loudly, no longer wary of any outside interruption.

“What a treat.” Pink smooched her on a rosy red cheek, and White groaned again. “My good, sweet girl, did you hear that? Or were you enjoying yourself too much? They’re only 48 hours away!” And then there was another kiss to her nose, before Pink pulled back ever so slightly.

As White peeked out from between her fingers, she was fixed and vulnerable under Pink’s sharp, piercing grin.

“Only 48 more hours. This next one will be so much more fun now that I have my little helper!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !! SUMMARY OF NEW TAGS/WARNING !!  
> Pink previously stabbed a crewmate in the stomach. She gives White the choice to let the last surviving crewmate bleed out, or to kill them as a 'mercy.' Pink pretty much manipulates White into agreeing, and they stab the crewmate in the neck together. Some blood gushes out. Guilt. Guilt. And then there's some spicy stuff to make up for the murder. ;)
> 
> \-------------------------------
> 
> Alright! Thanks for reading! It's very early here and I don't have a beta reader so there might have been some spelling/grammar errors, but I hope you enjoyed regardless! This is the ACTUAL end. You can ask questions about what happens after this if you want, but it's a "happy" ending for them, after this -- murder girlfriends and eventually murder wives. How sweet.
> 
> I really appreciate all the support you guys have shown me! I'm honestly so thankful for each and every one of you. I honestly wasn't planning on doing a second chapter, but you guys inspired me to! <3
> 
> As always, please leave a kudos/comment if you liked it (or even hated it)!  
> Now go drink some juice, have your favorite snack, and play a wholesome game of Among Us. (=


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